A Trip Down Memory Lane

My Last Springsteen Show — A Bout of Nostalgia to Live in the Moment

Later in life, the gift of death is clarity

My stepson’s hand and photo, half his life ago. Photo by author.

Is there anybody alive out there?

I went to my 50th-ish Springsteen show this summer with my sister.

Bruce turned 75 in September.* He has made these shows about mortality.

One of Bruce Springsteen’s gifts is that he can sell out arenas and stadiums with audiences ranging from 20,000 to 100,000, but he can make you believe the show is just for you. He's talking to and singing just for you.

I’ve been thinking about death lately, too.

My life expectancy is shorter than Bruce’s. Probably less than five years if I don’t get a kidney transplant.

My sister and I saw Bruce together in 1985 — upper deck seats at Cleveland Stadium — four dozen shows later, that was the only time we sat together at a show until summer 2024.

Leading up to the show, we’ve been talking about our mother, who passed away a few years ago. In our teens, my mother fell in love with Bruce’s music as a way to stay connected to us. She wasn’t faking it.

A few days before she passed, she was nonresponsive to us — even when we were all surrounding her in her hospice bed. But when we put on her favorite Bruce song, Bobbie Jean— the one that reminded her of us — her foot belied a subtle tapping to the rhythm.

I miss you, babe goodluck, goodbye Bobby Jean

North Jersey, PA

Maybe because it reminds him of Jersey, Bruce Springsteen gives special shows in Pittsburgh. In 2016, on the 9/11 anniversary, I witnessed a four-hour 33-song show.

Highlights: NYC Serenade, Saint, Incident into Rosie, Streets of Fire, Downbound Train, Backstreets…

The August 18, 2024 show in Pittsburgh was the second of two shows, so I held out hope for a few surprises. Here was our setlist. It did not disappoint.

Candy’s Room

Candy’s Room

He opened with Candy’s Room from 1978's Darkness. For the two of you who will get this, I am a Darkness Whore.

I am on board with Born to Run being a perfect album.

But if I had a time machine, I would go back to 1978 and see some Darkness shows.

[embed]Adam Raised a Cain

Adam Raised a Cain

He was in a mood.

Two guitar songs to kick things off. He played lead on both of them.

Daddy worked his whole life for nothing but the pain Now, he walks these empty rooms looking for something to blame You inherit the sins, you inherit the flames … Lost but not forgotten from the dark heart of a dream

Adam Raised a Cain

I’m one of those annoying super fans who’s seen so many concerts the shows work on a different level for me. One time in the front row, Bruce blanked on the next line of a song. I yelled it out. I know when he does an audible because he senses he’s losing the audience. I know when he plays a slower or more instrumental song so that he can catch his breath.

But what’s scary is I recognize half a dozen people who have been at every show I have attended. I can’t do the mathematical proof — but they have necessarily seen as many shows as I have (more).

I know when he’s in a mood. On most of Darkness, he will take the solos himself — Streets of Fire, Prove it All Night, Streets of Fire, Candy’s Room, Adam Raised a Cain. Later in the show, he will give Nils Because the Night and Youngstown. But when he needs to shred, he will audible a Darkness song.

Death to My Hometown

Thematically, this fits in better with the current Land of Hope and Dreams Tour.

Ghosts

The thought dawned on me during the first two songs. It built some momentum here. And it continued to the next song.

Darkness on the Edge of Town

Five songs in and three songs from Darkness.

My theory crystallized here.

There is some aspect of looking back. Nostalgia, if you will.

I believe this is his personal favorite song — even if he sometimes forgets that.

The Promised Land

Six songs in and four songs from Darkness.

When Jake Clemons performed the solo, the closed-circuit camera on the video screen focused on his hands on the sax, emphasizing the iconography. The instrument, the sound, the memory of Jake’s uncle Clarence “the Big Man” Clemons, who graced the cover with Bruce in the classic album cover “Born to Run.”

There was some sense of reliving the past.

Spirit in the Night

He went all the way back to his first album, 1973’s Greetings, to play Spirit in the Night. I know he plays it when he needs a breather in the concert. But there is always a weird synchronicity between Bruce and me. That was a song he held my mother’s hand for a few seconds while singing this verse

Janie’s fingers were in the cake.

Now, I know I’m right. Tonight was about nostalgia.

Darlington County

Sha la la la la la la la — audience and band together.

We take a little diversion with a silly crowd-pleaser.

If I was the Priest

This was like mathematical proof that Bruce was taking us on a journey of nostalgia, memory, and eventually, loss.

Although If I Was the Priest was on his most recent album of new material, he wrote it when he was 20, 55 years earlier.

The last time it got consistent play was 1971 during his residency run at Asbuy’ Park’s The Student Prince.

[embed]Roll of the Dice: If I Was the Priest | E Street Shuffle Updated 10/23/20: Well, the first sentence of my original essay sure did age well. As of a few minutes ago, we finally…estreetshuffle.com

Bruce is channeling SOMETHING.

If I Was the Priest had the lightness of youth, mixing Western Catholicism and rock-and-roll iconography. For a 20-year-old, it was heavy stuff. But the lyrics still belie a young playful kid... look at his silly wordplay.

Jesus is standing in the doorway, six gun drawn and ready to fan Said, “We need you tonight son up in Dodge City” Told him I was already overdue for Cheyenne

He really did need to get out of Dodge.

Youngstown

Threw Nils a bone.

Long Walk Home

(introduced as a “prayer for our country”)

It culminates in this line.

The flag flying over the courthouse Means certain things are set in stone Who we are, what we’ll do, and what we won’t

Then, he began a 5-song cycle with a thematic thread. Honoring the past and the departed.

Later in life, the gift of death is clarity, it’s lasting gift to us is an expanded vision of living this life in it possibilities. And the grief we feel when people we love leave us is the price we pay for loving well.

The E Street Shuffle

It begins with the band's genesis and lore.

Nightshift (Commodores cover)

Gonna be some sweet sounds coming down on the nightshift I bet you’re singing proud, oh I bet you’ll pull a crowd Gonna be a long night, it’s gonna be all right on the nightshift You found another home, I know you’re not alone on the nightshift

How could I not think of my mother?

Mary’s Place

A key piece of The Rising tour — a response to 9/11.

The singer in the song is calling up daylight while describing a party as a communion with the dead.

Seven days, seven candles in my window, light your way Your favorite record’s on the turntable, I drop the needle and pray Band’s counting out midnight, floor’s rumbling loud Singer’s calling up daylight, waiting for that shout from the crowd Waiting for that shout from the crowd … Turn it up, turn it up, turn it up, turn it up Turn it up, turn it up, turn it up … Meet me at Mary’s place. We’re going to have a party Tell me how do we get this thing started?

Last Man Standing

The metaphor becomes literal.

He introduces this song:

Later in life, the gift of death is clarity, it’s lasting gift to us is an expanded vision of living this life in it possibilities. And the grief we feel when people we love leave us is the price we pay for loving well.

He talks about the recent death of his friend, the last living member of his first band other than himself. Bruce is the Last Man Standing.

Backstreets

(dedicated to Charles Cross who passed away recently)

I knew this was coming.

It’s been my favorite song for 40+ years.

During the Darkness tour, he would ad-lib a 10-minute outro to the song, which eventually became another complete song, Drive All Night. It was about loneliness, betrayal, raw anger. After the final verse, he would spit beautiful venom and fire every night that was longer than the song.

As a teenager, this conjured pain from imaginary betrayal from relationships that had never happened.

We swore forever friends, On the Backstreets until the end

This song is also my stepson’s favorite song.

Three years ago, he invited me to NYC and got us amazing seats for Bruce’s Brooklyn show. And some magical synchronicity. Wilson, Bruce, and I had reframed the final lyrics in the same way.

In the end, instead of the angry rant, Bruce would deliver a eulogy/dedication to the memory of the only remaining bandmate from the previous song, who had recently passed away.

Until the ennnd.. Now I’ve got all your old books And I got your 45s And I carry everything else right here (refers to his heart) Right here I carry it right here Until the ennnd Until the ennnd Until the ennnd

I reframed it for myself too. It is now a positive affirmation of our ongoing friendship. I am no longer married to or in contact with his mother, but he and I (and his sister) are forever friends … on the backstreets until the end.

Then three songs of passion and romance.

Because the Night

(Patti Smith Group cover)

I’m on Fire

She’s the One

Wrecking Ball

A calculated break from where we were to where we’re going.

Four perfect songs that ended with the first encore

The Rising

Possibly the best song Bruce has written this century.

Badlands

It ain’t no sin to be glad you’re alive.

Thunder Road

My vote for the greatest song ever written.

Show a little faith there’s magic in the night.

Born to Run — First encore

I decided to write this piece because of Paul Combs’s Bruce stories, where he incessantly heralds this as the greatest song of all time.

The lights come on to unify the band and audience.

Four of the best songs Bruce ever wrote. The final one, according to Paul Combs, the best song ever written. That title for me goes to the penultimate song.

The rest of the show was mostly straightforward: rock and roll as in-the-moment celebration. With a touch of nostalgia. In the selection and in the theme of the final song. But the previous four songs were the emotional and thematic climax for me.

Glory Days

Dancing in the Dark

Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out

Twist and Shout

(with Joe and Johnny Grushecky.)

I’ll See You in My Dreams — Encore 2

Bruce ends the show alone.

After three hours of amplifiers, saxophones, drums, stories, ghosts, memories, and stadium-sized sing-alongs, the stage empties. And there is Bruce with an acoustic guitar singing, “I’ll see you in my dreams.”

The show began in memory. It moved through youth, friendship, loss, and longing. It honored old songs and people who are no longer here. Again and again, Bruce returned to the same idea: the people we lose are not gone as long as we carry them forward.

So I found myself thinking about my mother tapping her foot to “Bobby Jean.” And, inevitably, I thought about my own mortality.

When you’re young, nostalgia is mostly sentimental. When you’re older, it becomes something else. It becomes an inventory of blessings.

The point isn’t to live in the past. The point is to recognize how much of it is still alive inside us.

I went to the show expecting nostalgia. I left with gratitude. For my mother. For my sister. For my stepson. For fifty-ish Springsteen shows.

For the one summer night in Pittsburgh, a 75-year-old rock star reminded me that the best way to honor the past is to be fully present for the time we have left.

*I wrote this in 2004.